


Of Bright Eyes and Broken Memories

by Natasha_Rostova



Series: Of Bright Eyes [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fëanor talks about his mom, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Rostova/pseuds/Natasha_Rostova
Summary: On the eve of Fëanáro’s begetting day, Nerdanel uncovers the mystery of Fëanáro’s past, and unearths shadows of her own.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Series: Of Bright Eyes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1369057
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. In which Fëanáro yells about a door

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t already, please read the previous installments in this series before continuing.

The light of the trees was so warm.

The pleasant haze of warmth drowned the crowds to simple white noise as Nerdanel browsed her way through the market. 

Fabrics, threads, spices and trinkets filled the market tents, lining the walkways with color and life.

Though it all seemed dull to her, for something more than mere trinkets had consumed her.

The Prince who spent every waking hour in her home.

Fëanáro had only been absent for a few days, yet Nerdanel found herself missing his presence. As much as he was busy in the forge, reading and learning from her atar, something about knowing Fëanáro was around, was in the same home as her….

Something about it she had grown used to.

Nerdanel smiles.

She had grown used to him in her home. 

To him eating lunches with her, to him sitting in at tea time, to him sweeping past her in the hallways with that dumb smile.

She had grown used to him. 

Nerdanel almost laughs. 

What a strange thought. 

Growing used to someone. To their habits, their mannerisms, and most of all their smile. 

And what a lovely smile indeed...

Now what do you give a prince on his begetting day?

A gift that says, 'I care about you deeply and can't imagine life without you, yet I do not wish you to know it yet'. 

Did such a gift exist?

Nerdanel does laugh to herself this time.

Eru. 

How ridiculously wonderful and strange this all was.

How strange he was.

And oh how wonderful.

Wonderful.

Wonderful….

Nerdanel smiles widely.

Perfect.

——

Nerdanel finds herself almost skipping, smiling to herself the whole walk home. 

Gift wrapped in lovey red paper and tied with gold ribbon.

She can’t help but fiddle with the string, some nervous and bubbling feeling rising in her chest.

Oh Eru it almost felt like-

Nerdanel can feel her cheeks burn. 

She was ruined.

Despite the childlike joy she felt, there was a simmering fear.

What if he didn’t like it?

Oh Eru. 

What if he was confused or….

What if he hated it?

No. He would like it. He had to like it.

He liked her. 

Didn’t he?

Suddenly her house is in view, and the childlike glee returns. 

She could hide the present under her bed, and then, she could stop by the palace this afternoon, and ask to join Fëanáro for tea.

She could surprise him early.

She could be the first person to give him a gift.

And they could be alone, and drink tea and she could give him her present and then Nerdanel could finally….

She could finally say what had been in her mind since that night at the ball.

She could finally ask him to hold her hand all the time.

She could ask him to write to her every evening, and whisper secrets to her in the dark.

Perhaps he could understand her riddles.

Despite the pull in her heart that yearned to be alone, the cry that felt so alone. 

The scream of his soul seemed to shout louder.

And even if she couldn’t say ‘love’ perhaps she could find gentler words.

I care for you deeper than you could ever imagine.

Nerdanel quickly runs to open the front door, hoping to rush upstairs and prepare before her visit to the palace.

She swings open the door and-

“Watch it!” Fëanáro shouts, and Nerdanel feels her blood run cold.

Oh Eru. She had almost hit him in the face. With her front door. On the day she was supposed to confess her feelings.

“Fëanáro! I am so so so sorry! I was unaware-” Nerdanel quickly rushes inside, shutting the door behind her. 

Fëanáro is facing the other way, and when he turns to her, the warmth or joke she hopes for isn't there.

Replaced by tired eyes, and disheveled hair. His usually manicured appearance is broken slightly. Yet meeting her eyes, he furrows his brow. Fëanáro seems angry. Her heart drops. 

“I am so so sorry-” He cuts short her apology.

"Whatever. It’s in your nature isn't it? To be reckless." Fëanáro states sharply, and Nerdanel finds herself too shocked to respond, "I’m fine. You didn’t hit me.”

Nerdanel is still.

Her nature?

Eru what did she see in this boy?

Nerdanel sighs and quickly changes the subject, hoping to move past her mistake and ease the conversation.

“I did not expect to see you before your party. I was unaware you would stop by before the ball tomorrow.” Nerdanel chips, and Fëanáro tenses.

“Well I made a promise did I not? I am unable to just leave your Atar without an attendant." Despite his weary appearance and posture, his voice is sharp. 

Nerdanel freezes again. Obviously something other than the door was bothering him.

He was in some mood again. At least once a cycle he would be in some irritating mood. 

And she had made it worse.

Nerdanel takes a deep breath.

Her Atar said they must be kind. 

Even when he’s aggravating.

And being stupid. 

And even if she said sorry, and it was a complete accident yet he was still being mean, she must be kind.

Because he "isn’t used to being around others" and “someone must teach him to be kind Nerdanel”. 

Nerdanel bites back her remark and tries to sound as level headed as possible.

“I merely assumed you would be busy until your party. Nothing more.” She replies softly.

“Well then it appears you assumed wrong.” He bites back.

“Quite.” Nerdanel says neatly, staring at the gift in her hands.

They stand in silence for a moment.

Despite the obvious end to the conversation, Nerdanel can't will herself to move.

To leave.

To leave him.

"Fëanáro." Nerdanel steps toward him, her free arm outstretched. As soon as she touches his shoulder, he huffs, pulling away and turning his back to her. 

"I thought you were done bothering me, and trying to hit me with doors.” 

Nerdanel ignores his insult, even though she can feel her anger start to grow.

"I got you an early begetting day present." 

Fëanáro straightens his posture.

And suddenly the room feels very small.

And she feels very small.

“Do you ever mind your own?” His voice is low, and turning to her he stands tall.

“What?” Nerdanel recoils. Stepping back she hits the door.

What was he-

“I said, Do. You. Ever. Mind. Your. Own?” Each word is pointed and burns. "What made you think I'd want anything from you."

And suddenly the level head is gone.

She spent hours.

She….

She actually thought he….

“I heard you.” Nerdanel plants her feet. Flames of anger biting at her, "What I meant, was what dark force has compelled you to think you can snap at me and speak to me in such a terrible way." 

Something in her aches. 

Not of anger.

But of bitter sadness.

“Speak to you?” Fëanáro's expression darkens. "All you ever do is nag at me and act as if you are Queen of everything. And you question my tone?"

“Need I remind you this in my home. My house! And I refuse to tolerate such blatant slander!" Nerdanel raises her voice more than she intends, yet continues, "I merely bought you a present! I thought we were friends I thought-"

"Well you thought wrong." Fëanáro snaps, and suddenly his face close to hers and expression so cold.

And seeing him so close, she can see the slight tremble of his lip.

And suddenly, the flames of anger simmer, and are overtaken by a low buzz of compassion.

He was afraid.

And thus he was angry.

And Nerdanel refused to let her anger control her any longer. 

She refused to let her fear and confusion consume her.

Even though Fëanáro was letting his own fear consume him.

"No. No I didn't.” Nerdanel drops her shoulders, softening herself with a newfound understanding. “Because like it or not. We are friends. We are good friends." Nerdanel says, Fëanáro's eyes widen at her tone, and Nerdanel furrows her brow sternly.

Eru. Why must everything burn.

Why did Fëanáro insist on setting aflame their relationship, everytime she got too close.

Why did he fight?

Couldn't he see that she….

Couldn't he tell?

Nerdanel continues, voice soft yet stern.

"You are smart. And brave and clever and charming and you are my friend." Nerdanel stares at him, crossing her arms. "So. Stop. Pushing. Me. Away.”

Fëanáro opens his mouth to retort, yet Nerdanel presses forward, ignoring him.

"Because that's all this is. Something ridiculous has bothered you. And you let it get under your skin and worm away at you. And as usual, you take it out on whatever is closest. Because having friends makes you scared. Because people loving you makes you afraid." Nerdanel finishes, squaring herself to meet his stance. 

"You know nothing." His breathing is heavy. Face lit with anger, yet Nerdanel holds her ground.

"Yet I still know more than you." She whispers.

The anger drains from his face. Fëanáro doesn’t move, just, stares at her, face unreadable.

There are flashes of something behind his eyes, that strange look she can never quite place.

Nerdanel takes a shaking breath, hoping somehow she got through to him. 

Somehow she could force him to… 

That somehow she could love him enough for him to stop being so mad.

“You come and find me when you’ve gotten over yourself." Nerdanel whispers, before walking up to her room.


	2. In which Fëanáro expresses his feelings about a harp

Everything burned.

Ached.

Some sick heartache she had never felt before.

Loving so much it hurt.

Nerdanel sits on the floor, her back pressed against her door. Sitting there, Nerdanel could not help the sigh that escapes her.

Why must everything be so complicated with him?

For one moment he seemed to act as if he could not live without her, clinging to every word she yet. Yet the next moment, there was nothing there. Nothing but empty rage.

Yet how her heart longed to heal his. How she yearned to understand him.

And to have him understand her.

She thought he did.

Neranel slams her hands on the floor beside her.

She thought he understood her. And she thought she-

No. Nerdanel stops the rage the bubbles in her chest. No. She did understand him. 

She understood how angry he was. She understood the sea of fear that laid beneath his cold waters. Nerdanel knew him. She did. 

Perhaps the problem was Fëanáro being unable to understand himself.

Nerdanel wraps her arms around her knees.

What now?

She was supposed to tell him today. She was supposed to be charming and witty and brave and clever. Yet all Nerdanel feels now is an ache in her chest, previously hidden by her childlike glee.

She knew this would happen.

Nerdanel could pretend to be as aloof and charming as a Princess. Yet Nerdanel knew in her heart she was not what a Prince would look for. She could flirt and wink and pretend to be careless. Yet too much was beneath. And he had seen that. Fëanáro had seen her anger and fear.

Perhaps his fit of rage was a gift from Eru.

Perhaps He was sparing her. From heartbreak. From being abandoned again.

They were just playing games. A wink and a perfume soaked letter. Paired with warm brown eyes that saw into her heart. 

It was just something they did.

Nerdanel had tried to tell herself that night at the ball. It was all love games. Of course, Nerdanel was not sure she loved him at all. She wasn't sure she knew what love felt like. And she certainly wasn't ready to confess her love to him. If this was indeed love at all.

Nerdanel just wanted it to be more than a game. More than lingering touches that were too warm to be friendly. More than whispered jokes at the dinner table.

She wanted more.

It never felt like enough.

And then he had to- he had to yell and fight and-

And Nerdanel cannot help the feeling of misplacement that lingers in her heart.

He's done this before. Overreacted. Fought her. Every time anyone got too close. That first day on the beach. Again at the party, both to her and his brother. But never this strongly. Never had his warmth burned her. Until now.

But Nerdanel cannot take it anymore. She needed to be close. She needed the warmth that seemed to burn in his very soul even if the flames swallowed her whole.

And perhaps, she simply imagined he wouldn't fight her this time.

That the extra mornings eating breakfast meant something. That perhaps the quiet whispers had eased his heart. Just enough to get her close.

Nerdanel sighs.

Fëanáro was right.

She had thought wrong.

The door shakes her from her daze. A knock.

"Nerdanel." Fëanáro. His tone is barely above a whisper. Voice hoarse and quiet.

"Yes." Nerdanel responds. Her voice seems to be lost in the winds of her heart, for she responds just as soft, praying that he can hear her.

"Can I come in?" He says, and Nerdanel can hear the tremble in his voice.

"No." Nerdanel whispers, her heart muffled and confused amongst the break in his voice. Nerdanel cannot will herself to face him again, "But you can talk through the door." She continues, and Nerdanel finds herself holding her breath.

Don't leave.

And he doesn't.

Nerdanel hears him sit, and feels his weight lean on hers through the door. She knows it's impossible, yet Nerdanel swears she can feel his breathing.

"I'm sorry." Fëanáro whispers.

"Me too."

"You have nothing to apologize for, that was all me." He continues. His apology is so kind. And soft. And it only aches more.

Nerdanel yearns to see his expression, yet she fears the dam in her heart would break free if she faced him again.

"No. I should have- I should not have pressed." Nerdanel sighs, her heart bursting at the seams. 

"Nerdanel. No. No. You have nothing to be sorry for" He says, voice slightly sterner now ,"I am sorry because I genuinely care about you and what you think. And it was foolish of me to act as if I do not." 

Nerdanel can feel the pound of her heart in her chest, and the ache of unworthiness is once again melted in the sound of him. How could he make her feel so?

How could he melt everything in her heart in mere moments? How could he make her so angry she could scream, and yet how could he be so impossibly small and heartbroken. How could he make her feel so untouchable? Bright and lovely. How could he melt away every terrible fear with small words.

And how did the burn feel worse after he left?

"Do you mean that?" She whispers, and she fears he cannot hear her voice so low.

"Yes." Fëanáro says,"Only if you want me too."

"Yes. Very much so."

They fall quiet. And yet he doesn't move. Fëanáro just. Sits there. In their soft silence.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Very much so." He repeats her words, tone light yet heavy with a sadness she can’t quite place.

Slowly Nerdanel picks herself from the floor, her joints ache with that sick unworthiness from before.

Yet as soon as she sees his face, as soon as the door is opened, and his eyes meet hers, the feeling is reduced to ash.

"Hello." He says, his hair is a mess of light tangles and his face is flushed with some sort of melancholy wonder, cheeks pink and eyes wide.

"Hello." Nerdanel whispers back. She steps back, making a light gesture signaling him to come in, before lighting shutting the door behind him.

Fëanáro enters the room gently, as if everything is made from glass. He seems fascinated. Eyes scanning every inch of her room. 

The light drapes and soft blankets. Eyes lingering on her hand painted walls and custom wardrobe. The fireplace isn’t lit, and upon its mantle lays tiny sculptures and pieces of paper. Nerdanel suddenly wishes she had cleaned. He doesn’t seem to mind the chaos however, as his eyes brush over the scrolls and books that lay on the floor.

He doesn’t step too far into the room, as if he is afraid of entering. Until his eyes land on her harp.

“Do you play?” Fëanáro asks, skillfully avoiding the emotions he had just bared mere moments ago. He wanders over to the instrument, hands delicate. His voice is still hinted with the sorrow he obviously wanted to move past. Nerdanel humors him, keeping the conversation light.

“Barely.” Nerdanel says, moving to stand next to him. “I fear I was not gifted with musical talent.” She stares at the harp. A gift from her Atar. Gold detailing and delicate strings are hand crafted and perfectly placed. And here it sits, collecting dust.

“I doubt that.” He looks at her now, eyes full of that complexity she had grown attached too. The wonderstruck feeling. Nerdanel’s heart betrays her, it’s beating screaming in her body. She flushes.

“Well how about you then? Do you play?” Nerdanel asks, changing the topic, and hoping he would stop making her heart skip rope between desolation and a high she had never felt before.

Fëanáro smirks that dumb smile, before lightly playing a few notes. Effortlessly pulling a melody from the harp.

“A little.”

“Alright that’s enough, no showing off.” Nerdanel laughs, lightly batting away his hands from her harp. 

He laughs, eyes glistening. Yet suddenly some dark cloud covers him. And his eyes are hinted with melancholy. 

He shifts his gaze to the harp again, opening his mouth to say something, no doubt something completely off topic, and Nerdanel quickly stops him.

“Fëanáro…” Nerdanel says, reaching out to his arm, “Won't you tell me what ails you? Won’t you let me help you?” He seems slightly taken aback, yet swallows it.

“Atar says my Ammë was gifted. Musically I mean.” He says, reaching out to brush the strings again, “I am far from gifted. I suppose I got a sliver of that from her.”

It is as if all the puzzle pieces click in an instant.

Ammë.

That’s what all this was. His Ammë. Because it was almost time for his party. And shortly after his…..

Shortly after he was born…

She left him.

“That sounds lovely.” Nerdanel breathes, voice laced with concern from her newfound revelation.

“Indeed.” He says mildly, before falling quiet.

Nerdanel sighs. Heart aching, for his heart to healed. 

“Won’t you tell me more about her?”

He stiffens, and for a moment Nerdanel is afraid she crossed the line, yet it he responds softly.

"I don't know. I don't know anything about her." His voice cracks. "Eru Nerdanel. I don't know anything." Fëanáro whispers. His glazed eyes fixed on her harp.

"Oh Fëanáro, I did not mean to- '' Nerdanel says and places a hand on his shoulder, but suddenly his demeanor changes, and the fear is replaced by anger. 

"She left me. She left me. Her only son. Her only-" Fëanáro stands away from her quickly, brushing off Nerdanels compassion, anger radiating off him, as his voice is raised, "Nerdanel I feel so alone. And every begetting day party I stand and look into the sea of faces and-" Fëanáro's voice cracks yet his face is red and his posture sharp. "And I feel as if we should be mourning instead. Not drinking and laughing." 

“And I’m so angry. At everyone! At everything! At the Valar! And at my Atar!” Fëanáro is pacing now, and his frantic moments burn at Nerdanel’s very soul. How lost he was. How lovely and lost and lonely. “Because everyone acts like everything is fine! Everyone keeps living! And I cannot seem to-” He stops short, turning to face her. 

His chest is heaving, and his eyes are wide and sharp. Nerdanel can see a slight tremble in his lip. And despite all his sharp words, despite the fire that seemed to radiate from him, all Nerdanel sees is fear.

Standing before her was a lost child. 

Who just wanted to be held by his Ammë.

Nerdanel moves to him, footsteps light and arm outstretched. He’s shaking. Nerdanel places a gentle hand to his cheek. He’s stiff in her touch.

“I won’t leave you.” Nerdanel breathes, “Fëanáro. I won’t go anywhere. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

It is as if a dam breaks, and something in his chest seems to shatter. Instantly his stature is crumbled. Fëanáro cries, wrapping his arms tightly around his frame, and crumbling to his knees. He succumbs to heaving dry sobs. Frame shaking and voice ragged as he cries.

Nerdanel can feel a weight in her chest, and with all her heart Nerdanel falls to the floor and reaches out to hug him. Arms wrapped tight as he heaves and cries. Burying her face into his shoulder she squeezes her eyes tightly shut, trying to stop the sting of tears that threatens to escape her.

He smells of flame and ash, and something about made her so sad.

He did not smell like a home.

He smelled of endless work hours, and the burning heat of a forge. 

His reaction is instant, hugging her tightly, arms around her waist, holding her as a life line. He shakes harder, and Nerdanel cannot help the sting that burns in her heart.

Perhaps if she held him long enough, he could believe her. Believe that she really…..

Believe that she really loved him and would never leave him.

And maybe that would make everything okay.

It's a childish hope she knows, yet Nerdanel cannot find any more words, and simply hopes that this could be enough.

That she could be enough for him.

And that he could be enough for her.

They sit there on the floor, silent in the sound of his dry sobs. Arms wrapped tightly around each other. Nerdanel cannot tell how long they stay like that. Broken on the floor of her bedroom and seeking solace in each other. His sobs eventually melt into quiet gasps, yet Nerdanel only holds him tighter.

“Do not make me believe in you.” Fëanáro whispers in her hair at last, voice littered with dry hiccups, “I fear I cannot take another false hope.” His breath is shaky, and he sniffles quietly. 

“I am truly sorry I could not make you believe any sooner.” Nerdanel replies, and she hopes with all her heart he can hear the love written in voice. The love written in the embrace.

Even if she couldn't say it.

Maybe that was enough.

Fëanáro pulls back from the embrace, if only slightly. Arms still wrapped around her waist, he leans his head onto hers. Foreheads pressed together with tear stained cheeks.

“Nerdanel. I don’t want to lose you.” Fëanáro says, expression worried. Nerdanel wishes she could make it all vanish. Everything that ached at his soul. 

She knew the feeling too well.

Unworthy.

“You won’t Fëanáro. I promise.” Nerdanel replies.

Fëanáro flutters his eyes closed, brows gently furrowed. His breathing is shallow with the occasional sharp breath, and each soft exhale fans carefully across her face. Nerdanel can feel his hand shake oh so slightly in hers. A tremble.

"I need you to know that. I need you to know… I need you to know how much you matter to me. Even if it does not always seem that way." His tone is earnest and low.

“You matter to me too.” She replies in a hushed tone, afraid to break the haze they had created.

They sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. Faces oh so close, as the warm light from the trees breaks through her window and soaks everything in a lovely mist of warmth and comfort.

“I do not believe in myths such as love….but I think… perhaps.” He pauses. Eyes scanning her face slowly. Everything felt sedated. Lazy and dazed. And all Nerdanel can focus on is his slow blinking. He continues, “I think I… I like you...a lot.” 

He too seems to be held back by some invisible force, unable to say everything that was held behind his eyes.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, all Nerdanel can think of is how lovely he is.

How strange and clever and complex he is.

How could someone so wonderful and brilliant…

How could he really mean that?

Nerdanel’s heart pounds, yet the screaming of her heart is drowned by his wide eyed gaze.

Maybe he didn't. 

Maybe he didn't mean it.

But his gentle stare and slow breathing seemed to ease the fear that tempted to swallow her whole.

And with all her heart Nerdanel responds,

“I do not believe in love either, but if you wish you pretend it exists with me….Then...I suppose…I think I like you very much too.” 

Golden.

Her room is soaked in the golden glow of the trees, and her heart felt nothing but the warmth of him.

It felt golden.

"And where does that leave us?" Nerdanel mummers, voice dreamy and dazed.

"I have no idea." Fëanáro whispers in return, wonder written in his glossy eyes.

Yet with his face so close to hers, and the dull sound of his breathing. 

‘I like you very much’ seemed to be enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed! It really makes my day!


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